


Pop Goes the Question

by madjm



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madjm/pseuds/madjm
Summary: Five times Seth asks Kate to marry him, and one time he doesn't. SK





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SethKate fic. Also, strangely, it's my first 5+1 fic in many years of writing fanfic. This is all fluff, like seriously nothing but, so if that's not your thing, tune out now.

** 1 **

 

The first time he does it, it’s a joke.

 

And an apology.

 

Kate is pouting — honest-to-God-bottom-lip-sticking-out pouting — and giving him and Richie the silent treatment for not including her in a robbery. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing, really, a rich couple throwing around money like it was toilet paper and basically begging to have their hotel suite robbed. Kate was at home, still recovering, and it really never crossed his mind that she would even care what they did. It wasn’t like they _needed_ the money (or that it was much of a challenge), but it seemed like the thing to do, and served as a little warmup for getting back in the game.

 

It’s only been two weeks since they stopped the end of the world, and Seth is just ready to get back to normal.

 

Kate’s definitely better, but still not fully recovered from the mental and physical exhaustion that comes with having your body taken over by an evil, murderous bitch queen. She’s having epically big mood swings, and more than once he’s found her alone, just staring into space. She won’t tell him what she’s thinking about, but he always sits with her until she’s ready to move. It doesn’t help that she’s still unable to sleep through the night without having nightmares, screaming bloody murder until he can get to her room and wake her.

 

And yet, she still has it in her to be royally pissed off at the brothers.

 

“Stop treating me like an invalid! How am I gonna learn the ropes if you’re out there pulling jobs without me?” she snipes before settling into icy silence, ignoring both of them in favor of some shitty rom-com she’s found on TV.

 

Seth exchanges a look with his brother, who shrugs and returns to counting the cash they’d taken from those dumb, rich assholes. 

 

He sneaks another look at Kate, who’s stubbornly focused on the TV as some jackass verbally castrates himself by groveling in front of his vapid, stick-thin love interest. She’s running her fingers over one of her wounded wrists, a frown pulling at her mouth. Seth had made something of a study of Kate Fuller during the three months they spent in Mexico together, and he easily picks up that her anger is masking a fair amount of hurt. Like maybe she’s afraid they’ve changed their minds on taking her on as a partner.

 

And that bothers him more than he’d ever admit.

 

He hasn’t mentioned it to anyone, but in that tiny little church, his blood running into Kate’s veins, Seth made a promise to himself (hell, even to God, you know, just in case) that if he got her back, if he could see her alive once more, he would do everything in his power to keep her from being hurt ever again. 

 

There’s so much he can’t control, but the least he can do now is make her smile.

 

Digging through the bag of jewelry they’d taken, his hand closes over a ring. It’s a huge, showy thing made of white gold with a rock you could probably see from space. 

 

Before he can really think it through, he’s stepped in front of the television and dropped to one knee, waving the diamond ring in her direction.

 

“Katherine Fuller, light of my life,” he says, doing his best imitation of the ball-less wonder on the the TV, “would you do me the honor …”

 

Truthfully, he’s not sure what he’s planning to follow that up with — just something to make her laugh, hopefully — but it doesn’t matter, because Kate stands suddenly, snatching the ring out of his hand.

 

“Moron,” she says fondly (he’s 90 percent sure), sliding the ring on. The band is way too big, and she has to hold it in place as she inspects the way it looks, turning her hands this way and that.

 

For a moment, he’s frozen in place, watching her. It feels like a crossroads of sorts, one that he hasn’t really anticipated. He hadn’t really meant to propose _marriage_ , but would it be the worst thing ever if she thought he had?

 

Then she huffs, shaking her head, and he finds he can breathe easy again. 

 

“This is gaudy and gross,” she says, slipping the ring off and tossing it back to him. “I’d rather have cash.”

 

She walks past him to Richie, who’s holding out a stack of bills he separated out of the take for her. Graciously accepting the money, she lands a kiss on Richie’s cheek before sweeping regally out of the room. She tries to hide the grin blooming on her face, but Seth sees it anyway, getting to his feet with a matching smile.

 

“Well,” his brother says, “at least she forgives _me_.”

 

“Shut up, Richard.”

 

 

** 2 **

 

He hasn’t been this nervous on a job in years, but it’s their first with Kate, and it’s just — it’s a lot.

 

Objectively, he doesn’t really have a reason to worry. She’s listened to everything they’ve taught her, soaked it all up like a sponge. She’s memorized the plans, she’s asked good questions, she’s spent time working on her shooting just in case. Because Seth believes the difference between being a common thug and a true bank robbery artist is half skill and half theatrics, she’s even humored him by practicing some of his favorite lines. If she can manage to say any of them without giggling, it’ll be legendary. 

 

She’s got this, Seth knows she’s got this.

 

He’s the one who’s losing it.

 

It’s not like he doesn’t know she can take care of herself. Kate fought the queen of hell for months on her own and came out on top in the end. She’s not even 20 yet, and she’s practically a war veteran.

 

But fighting monsters is one thing; pointing a gun at real, live human beings is another. 

 

And there’s something inside of him that continues to be protective of her no matter how she protests. Richie says it’s some kind of leftover caveman instinct about protecting his mate or some shit, but the truth is he’s felt that way toward her since day one. When he promised her she’d make it out of everything unharmed, he’d meant it. Despite himself, he’d wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

 

He still does.

 

Of course, his worries are for nothing. Kate takes to the job like she was born for it, slotting herself in between the brothers seamlessly. She strolls into the bank, lovely and cool in a white dress and black gloves like she’s on her way to a fucking garden party. She stays out of their way, lets him do the talking and Richie do the safe-cracking, and provides the extra set of eyes he never knew he needed to make everything that much easier — and safer for everyone.

 

And when some asshole rent-a-cop in civvies tries reaching for a gun, Seth misses it, at least until Kate steps on the guy’s fucking hand with her spiky black high heel, making him yelp.

 

He’s there in an instant, but it’s really not necessary.

 

Kate’s already relieved the hero of his gun and has hers pointed at the guy’s head, nice and steady. “Do _not_ make me shoot you, mister,” she drawls, suddenly all Southern Belle. “I’ll just _never_ get the blood out of this dress.”

 

And that’s that.

 

She turns and smiles sweetly at Seth before turning to sweep her gaze over the rest of the bank’s customers.

 

“Marry me,” he says, and she laughs.

 

“Either of you want to quit flirting and help me carry this shit?” Richie calls from the back.

 

Kate turns back to him and shrugs. “Go ahead, I got this,” she says.

 

And she does.

 

 

 

** 3 **

 

Someone is about to be murdered, Seth thinks. Or at the very least, maimed.

 

He’s hated every second of this fucking job. They were out of this bloodsucker shit; they were _supposed_ to be out. But then, eight months after they defeated Amaru, Richie’s ex has to show up spouting doom and gloom about some ancient artifact that can control all culebras.

 

It’s not like they could refuse to help. He’s not wild about something out there that could take control of his brother again, and of course as soon as Kate heard the details she was 100 percent on board, but he just wonders when exactly the Geckoes became the go-to guys for bailing out culebras in trouble. 

 

Seth hates not being in control, really hates following someone else’s plan, and _really fucking hates_ being stuck in a sterile, chromed-out, overpriced bar relegated to watching the exits like some two-bit flunky while Richie and Kisa take out the guards and look for the culebra remote control that’s supposed to be hidden downstairs.

 

The cherry on top of this shitshow is part two of his duties — keeping an eye on Kate.

 

Not that he minds looking at Kate. He enjoys looking at her a bit too much, in all honestly, and seeing her in the little black dress (emphasis on “little”) Kisa had bought for her was certainly no hardship.

 

But watching her keep the bar’s owner distracted is a torture all its own.

 

Objectively, she’s doing a great job, showing off her assets without being sleazy about it, acting intrigued but not _too_ interested in the older man. She’s got his attention, just as they’d planned, but Seth hadn’t banked on the fact that seeing this asshole casually rest his hand on Kate’s arm would make an absolute rage boil up inside of him. He wants nothing more than to storm over there and break every finger that dared to touch her. Only the thought of his brother in danger downstairs is helping him control himself.

 

His phone buzzes, and the “got it” from Richie makes a heavy weight lift off his gut — at least until he looks over and sees Romeo leaning in closer to Kate.

 

He glances at his watch again, shaking his head. Something’s definitely gone wrong, because some of the snake queen’s underlings were supposed to spark a small but noisy explosion in the back to allow them all — including Kate — to slip away unnoticed.

 

He’s planning to give them exactly two minutes to make it happen, until he sees the bar owner move his grubby hand from Kate’s arm to her bare thigh — and he’s not going to wait a second more.

 

Pushing to his feet, he charges toward the bar.

 

“Baby, there you are!” he says loudly. “Look, I know I was an asshole, okay? I just wanted …” He stops in front of her, studying the guy — who still has his hand on Kate’s leg. Raising his eyebrows, he points at the bar owner. “Who the fuck is this?”

 

“We were just talking,” she says sulkily — playing it perfectly, just like she’d read his mind — shoving the prick’s hand away. “Not that it’s any of your business. I told you, we’re done.”

 

“I said I’m sorry,” he tells her with his most charming grin. “Let me make it up to you.”

 

“Excuse me, sir,” the asshole stands up, and Seth is pleased to see he’s got a couple inches on him. It’s his extreme pleasure to look down on the guy.“I’m going to have to ask you to leave the lady alone.”

 

“The _lady_ is going to marry me, you fuckwit,” Seth says, turning back to his partner. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

 

Kate stands, too, beaming at him. “You wanna marry me? Awww, that’s so sweet!”

 

Without warning, she launches herself at him, throws her arms around his neck, and pulls him down for a kiss.

 

He’d like to say that he tried to keep it professional, tried to hold himself back, but that would be a damn lie.

 

The moment her lips touch his, he’s wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer while deepening the kiss. And there’s not a single fucking professional thing about it. She gasps, then moans when he slides his tongue against hers, melting closer to him.

 

His head is spinning, and the soft little sounds she’s making have him seriously wondering where the nearest semi-private flat surface might be, when he hears the applause. Pulling back, he takes in the sight of Kate, flushed and breathing hard, her eyes fluttering while she licks her lips. It takes everything in him not to dive back in for more. A dozen of the bar’s patrons are watching their little display, clapping, and he sees his idiot brother near the door, applauding and smirking at them.

 

Time to go.

 

Kate pushes up on her tiptoes, grabbing his shoulders. “Getting a little tired of waiting, Gecko,” she whispers in his ear before dropping back, straightening his tie and strolling toward the door. 

 

He stands there like an idiot, and when the much delayed explosion finally sounds loud in the bar, he barely even notices.

 

 

 

** 4 **

 

“Okay, look,” Richie says. “I told myself I was gonna stay out of it, but you're really fucking it up.”

 

Seth sighs, looking up from his book. “I’m what, now?”

 

“She’s not a kid, you know? She hasn’t been since the fangs came out at the Titty Twister. If there was any little girl left in there, I’m pretty sure being possessed by Amaru stamped it out.”

 

“Richard —“

 

“We’ve spent the last nine months teaching her how to _rob banks_ , Seth. By her choice. I hardly think at this point a close encounter with your dick is going to ruin her.”

 

“What the fuck?” Seth drops his book on the couch and launches himself toward Richie, who backs away, holding up his hands.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That was too far, I know. I’m just saying, the girl kissed you three weeks ago, and you haven’t done jack about it. At this rate you’re going to be old and gray … er before you make a move. And I say _you_ because, of course, I’m going to be young and hot forever.”

 

Seth sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I just don’t want to fuck it up, you know? It’s _Kate_.”

 

Richie nods. “I get that, I do, but she died, you know?”

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“She died, and you … you lost something when she was gone.” Richie claps a hand on his shoulder, shakes it a little bit. “I kept thinking you’d snap out of it, and maybe you would have, eventually but … I don’t know, bro. Life is short. Don’t wait forever. I’m the only one of us with that kind of time.”

 

* * *

 

Long after Richie leaves, Seth hears his words on a loop in his brain, and before he knows it, he’s standing in front of Kate’s room. He knocks on her door, unsure of what to say. But Richie’s right; they should know better than anyone that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Seth Gecko has never been afraid to go after what he wants, and now is no time to start that shit.

 

Kate’s stretched out on her bed, looking at something on her laptop. An oversized T-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and her legs are on perfect display in a pair of very tiny plaid shorts.

 

She looks good enough to eat, and he feels like he’s swallowed his tongue.

 

Staring at him expectantly, she pulls out her earbuds. “Did you … want something?” she challenges him.

 

“Yeah, I, ah —“ 

 

Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Get dressed, we’re going out for dinner.”

 

Raising her eyebrows, completely unimpressed, she starts to put the earbuds back in. “I’m not really hungry; you guys go without me.”

 

“Wait,” he says. “ _Fuck_.” 

 

He hasn’t been this awkward with a girl since junior high, and it’s really pissing him off. “I came in here to ask if you wanted to go to out. With me.” 

 

She studies him for a moment, then closes her laptop and sets it aside, slipping off the bed. “Like a date?” she asks, walking toward him.

 

“Yes?” Shaking his head, he mentally berates himself as she stops in front of him. “Yes. I … yes, I am asking you on a date.”

 

She looks a little amused. “Finally. I thought I was gonna have to do everything.”

 

He huffs, biting back a laugh. “It’s … you’re important to me, Kate. I want to do this right.”

 

She smiles, edging even closer. “In that case, yes, I’d love to go out with you. But, honestly, tonight, I’d rather stay in, if it’s all the same.”

 

He swallows hard, thinking of how she’d felt in his arms. He starts to tell her there’s no rush, that he wants to give her the date, the flowers, all the gooey romantic shit, but he loses the ability to speak at all when she suddenly yanks her T-shirt off and throws it to the side, standing before him wearing nothing but those tiny plaid shorts and a defiant look.

 

“I guess I _do_ have to do everything,” she says.

 

Despite her boldness, there’s a hint of insecurity in her face, and a blush is steadily making its way over her face and down her chest.

 

He feels a little overwhelmed by her — his brave girl, standing there mostly naked and beautiful, sassing him — and he closes the little bit of space between them, his hands sliding gently up her arms and shoulders to cradle her face. 

 

He brushes his lips over hers softly, pulling back only to whisper, “I think I can take it from here.”

 

* * *

 

Much later, he tugs his pants back up, watching Kate watching him. She’s stretched out in her bed, looking sleepy, gorgeous and very satisfied, if he does say so himself. Her eyes are heavy, but he can all but feel them tracing his bare chest.

 

“See something you like?” he asks, grinning at her. He honestly can’t remember ever being happier.

 

She raises a shoulder. “Hmm, it’s all right.”

 

Chuckling, he picks up his shirt and walks to the edge of the bed. “Not what you were saying just a while ago, sweetheart. In fact, I distinctly remember you getting me confused with the man upstairs.”

 

“Shut up,” she says, laughing. “It’s a miracle lightning has never come down from heaven and fried your blasphemous ass.”

 

“I was born lucky, I guess.” He tugs his shirt over his head, feeling her eyes on him again. “You know, if you marry me, you can have _this_ all the time.” He waggles his eyebrows and waves his hand over his torso.

 

She snorts, sitting up and letting the sheet fall to her waist. “Pretty sure I can have _that_ ” — she waves her hand, mimicking him — “anytime I want, without putting a ring on it.”

 

He takes a step toward her, stopping when she holds out a hand. “Nope,” she says. “There’s a zero percent chance I’ll get my pizza tonight if you touch me again.”

 

Seth sighs. There are a lot of benefits to living at the ass end of nowhere, such as not having any nosy neighbors, but there wasn’t a single pizza place that would deliver out this far. And he’d promised Kate a pizza.

 

“I could call ‘em back and ask if they’d deliver for a $500 tip.”

 

She laughs again, pointing at the door. “Go! If I starve to death, it’s kinda going to put a damper on our first date.”

 

“All right, all right,” he says, picking up his shoes and walking backward toward the door so he can watch her as long as possible. “Don’t move; I’ll be right back.”

 

She settles in, pulling the sheet back up and smiling so warmly at him that he almost forgets how to breathe for a moment. 

 

“Seth,” she says as he opens the door. Her expression turns mischievous. “That was by far your worst proposal yet. Seriously. Lame.”

 

“Everyone’s a fucking critic,” he mutters, but he can’t stop smiling.

 

 

 

** 5 **

 

He doesn’t ask again, at least not for six months, but he thinks about it all the time.

 

The first time he says those three little words. The first time she says them back. Every time he makes her laugh. Every time he’s inside her. The nights he wakes up from a nightmare and she’s running her fingers through his hair and promising him that he’s okay, she’s got him. The moments when she treats Richie like her own brother, even when the two of them gang up on him.

 

Every damn time he takes a breath.

 

But he wants the next time to be real, to be special. He wants to find the perfect ring and come up with a completely unique way to pop the question. He’s a dramatic motherfucker, he knows it, but he wants to make a gesture, something that is so very _them_ that Kate will immediately realize that he means it for real this time.

 

And, hopefully, say yes.

 

Turns out, the moment is a quiet one, the two of them sitting on a bench casing the bank across the street. She looks beautiful, as always, but nothing out of the ordinary. She’s wearing ripped jeans, Converse sneakers and a flannel shirt, eating an ice cream cone and telling him about how she walked in on Richie and Kisa cuddling on the couch and watching a movie (which he finds bizarre and she finds hilarious).

 

He doesn’t even have a ring picked out yet, but he just. He just _wants_. He wants this, for the rest of his life, and he can’t think of anything that’s more _them_ than that.

 

“Kate.”

 

She’s still giggling about the cuddling culebras when she turns, sobering at the look on his face.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

 

He shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong. I just … I really love you. I couldn’t ask for a better partner, in every way. Will you marry me?”

 

And of course, of-fucking-course, that’s when they get jumped.

 

* * *

 

“Who do I have to kill to get a minute alone with my girl?” he asks, tugging at the ropes that have him bound to a chair. “That’s a serious question, by the way.”

 

He gets his answer in a punch right to the face, followed by quite a few more until his entire body feels like it’s on fire.

 

He doesn’t recognize any of the men who’d attacked them, but one of them keeps asking him about the artifact they’d stolen, the one that can control the snakes. He truthfully tells them he doesn’t have a clue where it is, and he doesn’t want to know, but that doesn’t stop them from asking again. Or hitting him when he can’t answer. In return, he asks, over and over, if Kate’s there, if she’s okay, if he can see her, and he’s punished every time by another blow.

 

On the bright side, nobody is trying to skin him alive this time.

 

He loses track of time, focusing on all the places he hurts to distract himself from worries about Kate. They’ve left him alone for a while, possibly accepting the fact that he really doesn’t know where to find their gadget. No matter how he moves, he can’t get his hands free.

 

He’s looking around the dark room trying to find something, anything to help him when he hears gunshots and screams, and he twists his hands harder, trying to work the ropes a little bit loose. He’s making approximately zero progress when the door bangs open, and Kate rushes in, sighing out a “thank God” before shutting the door behind her.

 

“You okay?” he asks, scanning her face. She’s got a bruise forming on one cheek, but other than that she looks unharmed.

 

“Am _I_ okay?” she laughs unsteadily, taking out the switchblade he got for her and sawing away at his bindings. “They broke your face.”

 

He can’t see her face, but he can hear the tears in her voice. “Babe, I’ll be fine. I was just worried they had you.”

 

She finishes cutting through his ropes, and he winces as the blood starts rushing back into his hands. 

 

Kneeling in front of him, Kate reaches for his tingling hands, rubbing them. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I left you. I got away from them and ran. I doubled back and followed them the best I could, and I called Richie, but then I lost them. It took us a while to track them down.”

 

“Hey,” he says gently, pulling one hand from hers to to cup her face. “That was smart. You did the right thing.”

 

“I left you,” she repeats.

 

“If they’d taken you, too, we both would be stuck here,” he points out. “And, I gotta be honest, I would have told them anything if they threatened to hurt you. You did good.”

 

There’s a loud crash from outside the door, and he slowly pushes to his feet. It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken, but there’s definitely a cracked rib or two.

 

“We should get out there,” he says.

 

Kate shakes her head. “No, Richie and Kisa are tearing those guys apart,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Literally.”

 

“Well,” he says, putting his arms around her and resting his forehead against hers. “We’ll just wait here for rescue, then.”

 

“Whatever you say, partner.”

 

 

 

** +1 **

 

He strolls into the kitchen whistling, feeling better than he has in a couple weeks. The sun is shining, his bruises are all but healed and his girl woke him up this morning with a torturously slow exploration of his body with her hands and mouth.

 

After he’d carried her into the shower with him and returned the favor, a couple of times, she’d ordered him to get ready, because she had a job lined up for them.

 

It’s been, in his view, a perfect day already.

 

“Where’s Kate?” he asks, finding Richie scanning through papers and blueprints spread out on the kitchen table.

 

“Am I my sister’s keeper?”

 

Seth smiles at the reminder that his brother already considers Kate a part of their family. It’s a little bit of a sore spot, though; she hasn’t mentioned the proposal since Seth was taken, and he hasn’t brought it up, either. If she never wants to make it legal, he’ll learn to be happy with that, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting the whole thing to be official: the preacher, the vows, the rings, all of that. 

 

Before he can say anything, the woman in question breezes into the kitchen, wearing a pretty, flowered dress and high-heeled sandals.

 

“There you are,” she says, pushing up on tiptoe to kiss him briefly before holding out her hand. “Keys, please. I’m driving.”

 

Seth _always_ drives, it’s kind of his thing, but after a moment he decides to go with it, dropping the keys in her hand.

 

Richie snorts. “Got your balls on? Oh, no, wait, they’re in Kate’s purse.”

 

“Shut up, Richard,” he says, in unison with Kate, who blows his brother a kiss and heads for the garage.

 

“You comin’?” he asks when Richie stays seated at the table.

 

“Nah, bro,” Richie says, smirking. “This one’s a two-person job.”

 

* * *

 

She refuses to tell him where they’re going or give him any details, and he does his best to let it go and relax in the passenger seat — not an easy feat for him.

 

She drives in the opposite direction than the areas they usually work, but it’s only half an hour before they’re pulling into a mid-size town with a quaint little downtown area. Once they get out of the car, she takes his hand and leads him in an easy stroll down the sidewalk lined with shops.

 

“Seth,” she says sweetly, “do you love me?”

 

“You know I do.”

 

“Will you steal something for me?”

 

He stops right there, pulling her into his arms. “Anything,” he says, pressing kisses on her face and neck. “Name it.” Kiss. “The Eiffel Tower?” Kiss. “The stars from the sky?” Kiss, kiss, kiss.

 

“Moron,” she says, giggling. “I was thinking of something a little bit smaller.” Backing away, she takes his arm and steers him down the street again, pausing occasionally to look in a shop window. 

 

He can tell the moment they reach their destination, a large window practically bursting with jewelry on display. Her arm goes tense, though anyone looking at her would think she was only mildly interested in the items on display.

 

“You want some sparkly shit?” he asks.

 

“That one,” she says firmly. “Top row, third from the left.”

 

Seth swears his heart stops for a moment when he sees that the top row is made up entirely of engagement rings. Swallowing hard, he forces his voice to stay casual. “You popping the question, Kate?”

 

She tugs at his arm, leading him down the sidewalk toward an empty bench. “Not asking. Answering.”

 

They sit, and he puts his arm around her.

 

“We kind of got interrupted before I could answer,” she says. “If the offer still stands, I’m in.”

 

She barely gets the words out before he’s pulled her practically into his lap, sliding his hands into her hair and kissing her deep and slow, like they’ve got the rest of their lives for it.

 

Which they kind of do.

 

“Fuck yes, the offer still stands,” he says when they finally come up for air.

 

She laughs, burrowing her face into his neck and pressing a kiss there. 

 

“It’s settled then,” she says. “Now, about my engagement ring.”

 

“You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he says. “But I could just go buy the damn thing.”

 

“Awww. Where’s the fun in that?” she asks, pulling back to grin at him. “I mean, I know it’s not as much of a challenge as the Eiffel Tower …”

 

“All right, all right,” he says, chuckling. How exactly he lucked into finding the perfect woman was a mystery, but he’s not looking that particular gift horse in the mouth, ever. He stands and holds out a hand to her. “If I’ve got you watching my back, it’ll be a piece of cake. You ready, partner?”

 

And, as always, she is.


End file.
